


Possession

by orphan_account



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Goodbye Sex, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mild Blood, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne and Lester “celebrate” Lester’s award. And as he’s fucking him, Lorne and Lester reflect over their shared past. Lester hates himself, but loving the way Lorne fucks into his body. Lorne plays Lester like a violin. Lester thinking he’s going to get the upper hand, but Lorne keeps reminding him of his place. They eventually come to a place of mutual understanding before saying good-bye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

Lester nearly spits out his drink when he sees the man sitting at the table behind him. His hair is white and he’s dressed real neat, but there’s no mistaking that it’s Lorne Malvo. Lorne Malvo is here in Las Vegas, laughing with his group of friends like the world didn’t just tilt off its axis in the last minute and a half.

Lester looks at the big award sitting next to him at the bar and suddenly feels very small. What’s so great about this thing if it can’t protect him from the past? It was supposed to be a lure, but now it just feels like an anvil weighing him down, reminding him of the events that have led up to this moment.

The urge to say something to him wars with his old instinct of keeping his head down. The old Lester would have already run back to the elevator and into bed with his brand new wife. But the new Lester is curious. He gets the impulse to poke at these old wounds again. The washing machine, the wrench, his infected hand, his brother in jail, his nephew in juvie…all of it comes back to him again, and all because Lorne Malvo had to show up and ruin everything he’s worked for.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but suddenly, his feet are moving him closer and closer to Lorne’s table. The table gets quiet the closer he gets and suddenly he’s standing not one foot away from the man who changed his whole world but one year ago.

It feels like eons before Lorne turns around. He feels his heart pounding into his chest as he clutches his award to it. They make eye contact for several tense seconds. There are a month’s worth of things going through Lester’s head that he wants to say, but finds the words stick in his mouth as Lorne looks at him knowingly. But just as suddenly, his demeanor completely changes.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Lorne asks, mask of friendliness covering the recognition in his eyes.

“It’s me. Lester,” he answers lamely. 

“Am I supposed to know who you are?”

One of the women at the table laughs. He’s forgotten what it feels like to feel foolish. He’s forgotten what it feels like to be reminded of one’s place. It’s like standing up at the front of the class with your zipper undone.

“I-I guess not,” he answers with a stutter. And he’d been doing so well about not doing that anymore. “So you’re saying you’re not Lorne Malvo?”

Lorne’s three guests begin to look at Lorne expectantly. Lester is fortunate that he wasn’t currently going by some other alias. Now he’ll _have_ to deal with Lester.

Lorne turns back to his friend. “You know, I’m not sure I like the uninvited company. Would you care to join me in my suite?”

They all agree, casting odd looks at Lester, wondering why this stranger has decided to ruin their night together. And they had been having so much fun, too. The walk past Lester and make their way over to the elevators. Shocked at being rebuffed, it takes a moment for Lester to catch up, but he makes it there just in time to put his hand between the closing doors.

He meets Lorne’s eyes again, and Lester can tell that Lorne is getting angry and annoyed. But at least he’s paying attention.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Lorne finally says.

And for that split second, Lester isn’t sure. In fact, he’s sitting in the hospital waiting room again. He can’t drink his soda, no matter how hard he tries, and he keeps insisting that he broke his nose from tripping on the ice in front of the fire station. The words come back to him unbidden:

“Yes…or no?”

This time, Lester answers with a steady, “Yes.”

Lorne’s mouth twists into a sinister smile, bemused that Lester is pushing it this far, but interested to see where this will lead. 

The elevator chimes, signifying that Lester’s been holding the doors open long enough. But he doesn’t move. He waits to be invited in. Lorne realizes that Lester’s getting off on the fact that he’s ruined his evening plans and might have even ruined his cover. And that just won’t do.

Lorne turns to his group. “Change of plans. He’s coming with me, and you aren’t going to follow us.”

The three look understandably confused, but the look Lorne shoots them quells any dissenting remarks. They immediately vacate the elevator, leaving Lester and Lorne together for the first time since they met at the diner.

“Congratulations on the award.”

“Oh, it’s not much…”

“I know.”

Lester gulps. He had forgotten how dangerous this man could be, but frankly, it just draws Lester to him like a moth to flame. Sometimes Lester thinks he’s ready to go up in smoke if it means getting any sort of attention from this man. This man, who completely changed his whole life in one afternoon.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Especially out here and all.”

“Same could be said about you, Lester.”

And, well, he does have a point.

The elevator opens again, and Lester doesn’t even get a look at the floor number before he’s following Lorne down a long, carpeted hallway. Lorne enters his room and leaves the door wide open for Lester to follow him inside. Lester closes the door behind him. The room looks exactly like his own, with the exception of Lorne standing expectantly by the big bed on the other side of the room.

Lester puts his big award down on the tiny table in the kitchenette area and walks to the other side of the room, drawn to Lorne by some invisible force. He stops only when they are about a foot apart.

Lorne crosses his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I won an award—like you were saying before—and I went to the bar for a nightcap, when all of a sudden—”

“I meant, why are you here, in this room, with me, at 1:30 in the morning, instead of with your new wife. Don’t you think she’d blow you to celebrate your newfound success?”

Well, when he puts it like that, it sounds pretty ridiculous. 

“I don’t know.”

Lorne smiles his shark smile and calmly begins undressing from the bottom up: shoes, socks, pants, button up, until he’s sitting on the bed in nothing more than a navy tank and a pair of boxer briefs.

“Have you figured it out yet?” Lorne taunts.

Lester comes back to the present realizing that the stiffy he was sporting down at the bar has now turned into a full hard-on, all from finding Lorne again and hearing him speak in that biting, tempting way of his.

Lester manages a nod and quickly begins working his way out of his clothes. He tosses them in a haphazard pile before climbing onto the bed wearing nothing but his own underthings. Lorne is stretched out across the bed, arms folded behind his head, and eyes closed as though in the middle of sleeping. His own hardening cock tells another story.

Lorne opens his eyes as Lester hesitates to make the first move. “Don’t be shy.”

Lorne helps Lester proceed by pulling off his own underwear, waiting for Lester to do the same. Soon, both their cocks are exposed, and a contest is presented. Lester is just thinking that perhaps his is the biggest, when Lorne suddenly grabs it.

“It doesn’t matter how big it is.”

Lester’s a tiny bit scared, but then Lorne starts stroking his cock at a really nice pace. Little else seems to matter then. It’s a nice and easy rhythm, just enough to elicit a dark interest, just enough to prompt clear precome to flow from the tip. He only gets really wet when someone runs a thumb around and around the head of his dick. He doesn’t like this often with other people, but he shouldn’t be surprised that Lorne gets it right on the first try.

Little moans start to bubble up from between his bitten lips.

“Fuck, fuck, Lorne,” Lester whines. He clenches his fists at his sides, wanting more, but not sure how to ask for it. 

He’s just about ready to open his eyes to see and his mouth to speak, when he feels Lorne flipping their positions. Lester opens his eyes to find himself flat on his back, and Lorne straddling his hips.

“Have you been a naughty boy, Lester?”

 

The words echo in his ears. With just a few words, Lorne has brought him back to the worst days of his life. He feels the hammer in his hand like it’s an extension of his arm. It feels good and wrong all at the same time. The desperation he felt then comes back to him now as he feels Lorne rocking his cock against his body, sliding effortlessly over his hips and belly.

Lester gaps loudly when their cocks find friction against each other. Lorne holds them tightly between his hands, jacking them off with rough speed. Lester’s hands fly up to grip Lorne’s hips before he can stop himself, urging Lorne to do more, take more.

“Answer the question,” Lorne commands, hands ceasing their delicious slide.

Lester mewls and tries to spur Lorne back into motion, but he holds steady and firm in his word. Lorne’s not too sure he likes this version of Lester. On one hand, it’s nice to see he’s taken charge of his own life. And on the other, he sees that Lester has become cocky and pompous in the way he presents himself. Confidence is one thing; arrogance is another.

When Lester realizes that he’s not going to budge, he quickly admits defeat.

“Oh, fuck, alright. Yes. I’ve been bad. Very bad.”

Lorne smiles his shark smile.

“I know. You’ve been very bed, Lester.”

Lorne leans down to lie completely atop Lester’s body. He braces himself on his hands on either side of Lester’s head, thighs bracketing thighs. Lester looks up at him with trepidation as Lorne brings his head down for a smoldering kiss. For a split second, Lester resists, but it’s not long before he’s following Lorne’s tongue. Again, Lester finds himself bringing his hands up to squeeze Lorne’s hips before snaking around to grab his bare ass.

“Do you know what happens to bad boys?” Lorne asks, pulling away to let them both breathe.

“They-they get punished.”

“Very good, Lester. You’re learning.”

Lorne captures his lips in another kiss. It’s deep and possessive, and Lester finds himself wondering if this is how it could have been all along. Could they have ever teamed up? Could they have spent the last year taking what they wanted from each other?

Suddenly, Lorne is wrapping one of his hands around Lester’s throat and thought vanishes from his mind. Lester chokes and sputters as Lorne continues to kiss and choke him. His vision goes spotty at the edges when Lorne finally lets up.

“Stay here,” Lorne orders, getting up from the bed.

Lester gets the urge flee after Lorne says those ominous words to him, but, as is always the case, Lorne knows him incredibly well.

“Don’t even bother trying to leave. You know I’d find you.”

And that is painfully true. Lorne is possessive enough, threatening and frightening enough, that Lester knows he would come after him. Lorne would kill him, slowly and painfully, a reminder of all that Lorne has done for him and a punishment for Lester approaching him out of the blue. Lester only now realizes that he should have kept his damn mouth shut. Lorne reminds him that he’s becoming too big in the britches, the Lester would still be the beaten down husband to Pearl Nygaard in the middle of Minnesota. And just as easily as Lorne has given, Lorne can take away.

“I know,” Lester croaks, somehow still aroused, interested to see how the night will progress. 

He had wanted a random fuck, and he had gotten Lorne Malvo instead. He’s not sure if this is the better option, but it’s certainly the more intriguing one. 

When Lorne gets back on the bed, Lester sees he’s holding some sort of tube. And, _oh_ , it suddenly clicks in his brain. Lorne wants—and is going to—fuck him.

“What-what are you—?”

And there he goes, stuttering again. Lorne finds it endearing. It’s a call back to the old Lester. The Lester he had used as his personal plaything. Had used and manipulated him into doing despicable things to people Lester had convinced himself that he loved. Lorne read the papers; Chaz and the boy going to jail, Kitty selling off all their precious possession. Gina Hess knocked up, but refusing to answer questions about the father. (Those big blue eyes could have only belonged to one person.) And of course, Lester’s wife and the sheriff were the first two causalities. And all it did was bring Lester right back here in front of him.

“Take a guess,” Lorne says, opening the tube and coating his fingers in the wet substance.

Lester’s eyes widen in fear, but he doesn’t make as if to leave. Lester could leave whenever he wants. But there are consequences for every choice, and this is a lesson Lester knows very well.

Lorne shoves in two fingers. He’s not here to patiently open Lester up. Lester had given him an emphatic “yes” this time. Still, Lester hisses in pain.

“Calm down, Lester. You do realize that my dick is going to be much larger, don’t you?”

It’s not really a question, so Lester doesn’t answer. He just spreads his thighs wider and holds tight to the sheets underneath him. Lorne leans down from his kneeling position above Lester to suck Lester’s cock while he roughly fingers him open. Lester starts making these tiny, whining noises like he’s not quite in pain, but not quite in pleasure. It’s music to Lorne’s ears as he presses in a third finger.

 

Lester can honestly say that he’s never felt so full in his entire life. Sure, what guy hasn’t tried some prostate stimulation? It feels good. _Really_ good. But this is beyond anything he’s ever tried, with or without a partner. But Lorne continues shoving in over and over again, when, suddenly, his mouth is descending down around his cock. And that feels wonderful.

Lorne takes him in pretty deep. It’s a sight to behold. It’s something he never in his wildest dreams would have ever would have happened to him. Not this night, or any other night where Lorne Malvo was a constant presence in his brain. But then his mouth is moving and his fingers are withdrawing, and then Lorne and Lester are face to face again.

“Should I use a condom? I heard you fuck pretty much anyone with a willing cunt.”

If Lester’s cheeks were already flushed, they shine an even deeper crimson now. How did Lorne even know that…?

“You don’t need one. I’m clean,” he manages to answer.

Lorne proceeds to slick up his dick, shaking his head and smiling as he does so. “Lester, you haven’t been clean in a very long time.”

For some reason, hearing that from Lorne hurts more than he thought it would. That deputy had known he did, and that cop friend of hers, but hearing it from them never mattered. The brief time that Bill thought he had done it hadn’t been as painful to hear as it does in this moment. It’s as if everything he thought he had achieved was turning to ash and blowing away.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Lorne announces.

And without much preamble, he does.

 

Lester gasps as his hole is roughly breached. Out of reflex, he finds himself wrapping his arms around Lorne’s neck for lack of something better to hold on to. Lorne lets out a low chuckle as Lester scrabbles to make sense of what’s happening. He lets Lester hold on to him, if only to be nearer to those high-pitched keening sounds Lester releases every time he slams into his body.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Lester hisses. “It’s too much. It’s too much.”

Lorne ignores him in favor of thrusting his cock into Lester’s tight, warm body. He starts leaving bite marks on Lester’s collarbones, just to see what new noise Lester will make. He’s thrilled to see real tears begin to wet his cheeks. How will he ever explain these to that new wife? Lorne wishes he could be there when she finds out.

“You’re mine, Lester. You’re mine. You belong to me; do you understand?”

Through tears of agony and desire, Lester tries to respond.

“Yours. Yes, I’m yours.”

 _It’s true,_ Lester thinks. _It’s always been true._

“That’s right. You came to me. You wanted me. I helped you, and now you’re mine.”

“ _Yours_.”

Lorne leaves another bite on Lester’s neck, right where ear meets jaw. He sucks a pretty bruise. All of these bruises will be a reminder. A remind that Lester belongs to him. But Lorne wants to make it permanent.

Lorne thrusts wildly until Lorne thinks Lester’s coming simply from reflex. And that exquisite look on his face and vice of his ass if enough to pull Lorne over the edge with him. Even Lorne must admit that he feels utterly euphoric in the aftermath and doesn’t feel like moving right away.

Lorne rolls off of his so they’re lying next to each other, side by side.

“Lester, there’s one more thing I need to do for me…”

“What’s that?” he asks through a fresh crop up of tears that’s valiantly trying to hold back.

“I want to mark you.”

Lester swallows audibly. 

“What do you call these?” he asks, pointing to the red and purple marks on his chest and neck.

“I want to mark you permanently.”

Lester doesn’t answer right away, and Lorne doesn’t try to rush him. He thinks he would be understanding if Lester refused. He might just let Lester slide on this one, though the idea is intensely absorbing.

“Okay,” Lester says. “But only if I can mark you.”

Lorne smiles to himself. He kind of likes this newer side of Lester. 

Lorne stand on legs still made of jelly and makes his way over to his bag. Lester props himself up on his elbows to see what Lorne is doing. A knife shines in the low light of the hotel room. It’s small; maybe three inches in length altogether. He comes back to bed with it.

“Do it.”

Lester wordlessly opens his right arm up for Lorne’s use. In thin letters across Lester’s bicep, Lorne leaves his initials in perfectly straight lines. Lester chokes back the pain before holding his hand out for the knife. There’s another knife under the pillows, so he’s not terribly worried that Lester will try something, not with come and blood leaking out of his body.

 _He won’t hurt me,_ Lorne thinks. _Not if it’s the last time._

Lester takes the knife in a hand that shakes at first, but becomes steady upon seeing Lorne offering his own arm. It strikes Lester as he’s carving his initials in short, blocky letters that his and Lorne’s initials differ by the single line that finishes off the letter “M” in Malvo. Lorne doesn’t even flinch.

Lester hands the knife back when he’s done and feels intensely that it’s time for him to leave.

“I gotta go,” he says lamely. It sounds so incomplete after everything they have shared.

“Don’t forget your award.”

Lester’s nose scrunches at that. 

“I think I’ll toss it.”

“You do that.”

Lester nods twice before getting up with a wince to get his clothes back on in some semblance of order. He doesn’t want his wife worrying about him. 

He’s at the door, holding his award when he turns back to Lorne one last time. Even naked and debauched, he still looks clever, strong, and intimidating. 

“Good-bye,” Lester says with some sentimentality.

Lorne doesn’t answer, but briefly inclines his head, which is more than Lester ever thought he’d get. He leaves the room quickly before Lorne decides to kill him or worse.


End file.
